Stay With Me
by Darkhours
Summary: "He's never been good at these..." Castle and Beckett meet at a bar pre-season. One-shot.


_Guess it's true, I'm not good at a one-night stand_

_But I still need love 'cause I'm just a man_

_These nights never seem to go to plan_

_I don't want you to leave, will you hold my hand?_

_Oh, won't you stay with me?_

_'Cause you're all I need_

_This ain't love, it's clear to see_

_But darling, stay with me_

_Why am I so emotional?_

_No, it's not a good look, gain some self-control_

_And deep down I know this never works_

_But you can lay with me so it doesn't hurt_

**_"Stay With Me" by Sam Smith _**

* * *

He's never been good at these. They're supposed to be fast and impersonal. No emotions, no attachments. And yet he always finds himself with a woman that mirrors his own sorrow, his despair reflected back at him.

* * *

His girlfriend just broke up with him and he hasn't been able to find a way out of his funk. He's been drinking the pain, writing it down when it gets too unbearable. But nothing really helps. He's too proud to admit heartbreak but it's definitely something close to it.

He downs his third glass of scotch, signals the bartender for another when she sits down next to him. The bar is completely empty with the exception of a few guys at the pool table and him and the woman beside him. Her hair is dark brown, almost black, and the curly locks stop just past her shoulders. But that's not even what grabs his attention.

It's her blood red, tear stained face that makes it impossible for him to divert his eyes. Her lids are puffy, the white of her eyes dark pink, the red veins so prominent that he can follow the exact jagged edge of them until they disappear behind her eyes. Her cheeks are still wet and they're so red you'd think someone slapped her.

She sniffles and wipes at her eyes, signals the bartender for a drink when he sets down his own glass of scotch. He passes it to her instead.

She sighs and takes the glass by her fingertips, lets it dangle from the rim. She huffs again before muttering, "you know if you hadn't been here first I'd think you were stalking me."

He doesn't reply, just watches as she downs the whole glass, throws it back as if it's water. Surprisingly, she sets it down gently on the bar instead of the expected slam, and folds her hands together.

"Keep'em comin'," he says to the bartender. The man just nods and wipes his hands on a towel. "Why would you think I'm stalking you?"

It's the only thing he can think to say because for some reason telling her she's the most beautiful woman he's ever seen before doesn't seem like the best option. And has no idea why the swell of her eyes and the wetness of her cheeks, makes her all the more attractive. He's been hypnotized in under a minute.

The bartender sets another set of drinks in front of them and she twirls her glass around before taking a sip.

"This is the third time today we've been at the same place at the same time."

He doesn't remember seeing her before because he's sure he would've remembered her. How could he forget a face this angelic? Even in her misery she's breathtaking.

When he doesn't speak she continues. "We met today at McNally Jackson. I was the one with your book at the front of the line."

This catches him off guard. He's amazed that she knows who he is. He does remember a woman with his book, before coffee was spilled on his favorite coat, he just never got the chance to really look at her.

"Okay. Where else?" He asks fiddling with his glass.

"Central Park," she answers chewing on a few ice cubes. "Remember all the cops?"

"Yeah! You were there?"

"I walked right past you."

"Uniform?" He asks, not believing she's a cop.

She nods.

"Wow if only I was paying attention."

"Then what? We would've hooked up sooner?" She chuckles sardonically at that one.

"Not what I meant. But we're hooking up?" He raises his eyebrow in question. He's surprised, but he isn't saying no. Sometimes a hookup is what he needs after a breakup.

"Hmm," she hums lifting her eyebrows briefly.

"What's your name?" He asks after a minute.

She turns to face him, her hand still fiddling with her glass. "You can call me...Kate."

"Is that not your real name?"

She shrugs, smirking.

"What's your real name?"

"How do you know that's not it?" She takes a sip of her drink, licks her lip after she swallows, and he's never going to admit how that affects him.

"Because you wanted me to doubt you. Tell me, is that your real name?"

"What's in that for me Mr. Castle?"

He pouts for a second before looking around the bar suggestively. When the coast is clear he leans in close to her, his lips ghosting across her cheek to her ear and he whispers, "I wanna be moaning your real name when I'm inside you."

He looks back in time to catch her blush before she schools her features. Then she smiles and nods briefly.

"It's Kate."

His turn to smile. "You can call me Rick."

* * *

When he finally kisses her his world stops. He forgets his broken heart, it no longer bothers him.

He's never felt such a strong connection to anyone before. And from the look in her eyes she feels it too.

He opens the door to his new apartment and gestures for her to go in ahead of him. He's not two steps inside before she's pushing her mouth back to his, taking what she obviously needs, and he lets her, too transfixed, too mesmerized by her to let her do anything but.

It's starts off as a slow exploration of each other's mouths. His hands low on her waist, her lips sweet from the cherries she ate, but her tongue lashes him with the tang of alcohol and he hums low in his throat. What starts off slow quickly escalates into a desire neither can control. Their kisses turn sloppy, their hands start wandering, and he's got a hard-on like never before. He doesn't have time to be embarrassed because she's languidly undulating her pelvis against his and it's the most erotic dance ever.

His hands frame her face as he walks her backwards to his bedroom. He stops in the doorway and painfully unglues himself from the addiction standing in front of him.

"I'm being terribly rude. Can I get you anything?"

"Yeah, you," she says before diving back for his mouth.

His arm finds her waist when he mumbles, "that was cheesy."

She huffs a laugh against his lips as he lifts her off her feet so only the tips of her toes lightly graze the hardwood floors. He shuts his bedroom door so he can press her up against it and then she's crawling up his body, wrapping her sinfully long legs around his waist, and he knows she can feel him against her and the thought spurs him on, makes him want more.

His desire for her becoming uncontrollable, a craving that needs to be curbed.

She's panting against him, her movements fast and jerky. God, he's never wanted a woman this badly before.

He pushes her hips into the door to still her movements and pins both her wrists on either side of her face. His knee, the only thing holding her up. Kate arches her back pushing her center against his and they both hiss.

He releases her hands to place his on the apex of her thighs and carries her the short distance to the bed before dropping her to the middle.

Her hands are under his shirt before he even climbs up the bed.

"You don't have any sheets," she observes.

"Yeah I know," he breathes against her neck.

She tosses his shirt across the room before pressing frantic kisses along his neck, across his collarbone, and down his chest while her hands make quick work of his pants.

They're lying diagonally on the bed so he can lay her flat while he peels her jeans from her legs. By the time he's got her shirt off they're both panting and sweating and _eager_ to really get things going. He peppers kisses wherever he can get his lips and when he palms her breast she starts squirming underneath him. She's making these tantalizing noises that spur him on, makes him want her with a furious fervor.

His hands seek the elastic of her underwear and he slips one finger inside, finds her hot and wet. When his finger grazes her clit she grunts and snaps her legs closed.

His stills his movements and waits for another reaction. Her eyes fly open when he doesn't move and she wraps her arm around his neck, brings his mouth down to hers.

"Don't stop," she whispers pressing her forehead to his. "Please don't stop." She kisses him and parts her legs for him again and he resumes his ministrations.

He watches as her face contorts in pleasure, her hands reaching for something to grip but finding nothing. She whimpers when he speeds up, the pleasure _zapping_ through her veins, caressing her skin, but whines when he removes his hand from between her legs a minute later. He reaches into the drawer next to his bed for a condom and rolls it on.

Her face and chest are flushed and he watches as she tries to catch her breath, her fingers griping her hair and brushing it out her face. His fingers are slick with her arousal and he sucks his thumb before sliding the article down her legs, leaving her bare before him.

"Now Rick," she begs her voice strained with desperation. "I told you not to stop."

"You're not the boss of me, Kate," he grunts before leaning down and kissing her passionately.

She wraps her legs around his waist, her hands fisting in his hair, and she digs the balls of her feet into his backside to urge his waist forward.

"Ready?" He asks just to be sure, placing his hand on her thigh.

She bites her lip and nods.

He slides inside her then, slowly, inch by inch he's stretching her until she's snug against him.

He goes slow, an ache forming low in his abdomen, a pang in his chest that hits his rib cage with every beat of his heart. He has no idea what's building inside him, only knows that it's strong and inevitable.

He tries to keep his pace slow and steady but his body betrays him. He's eager, seeking something inside of Kate that he needs, that he wants to claim. A missing piece of himself.

He looks her in the eyes and wow...she feels it too. Something filling and building and overwhelming them.

He can't help himself when his thrusts speed up and his hand on her thigh tightens. Kate's eyes fly closed and her nails scrape down his back as he picks up his pace. She bites her lip and bends her head back, trying to muffle what she feels but the sounds escape anyway. Desperate and delicious.

He takes her hands and pins them to the mattress on either side of her head while he trails kisses down her neck, bites it then soothing it with his tongue. Her legs tighten around his waist and she turns her head to the other side, effectively blocking his mouth from that side of her neck. Her hands are fighting for freedom and she groans out a "pleeease" but he sucks from her lips quickly before releasing her.

Her arms fly around his neck the second he lets her go then suddenly her whole body is clenching around him and she arches her back and shatters with his name on her lips. His _last_ name. And it's the sexiest thing ever.

With his forehead pressed to hers, he follows right behind her.

* * *

They lay naked and sated on his mattress, breathing heavy but peaceful. He wants to touch her, but isn't sure that's allowed on a one night stand.

He stands up to get the box of tissues from his nightstand and cleans himself.

"Did you just watch me do that?" He asks with a hint of embarrassment.

She smiles and bites her lip. She nods. "Maybe you shouldn't have done it in front of me."

He doesn't respond, just hands her a tissue and crosses his arms.

She smirks and isn't shy about cleaning herself.

He dumps the soiled tissue in the waist basket in the corner of the room before beckoning Kate to stand.

"Help me make the bed," he says tossing a pillow at her face.

"A please would be nice."

"Help me make the bed, pleease."

"Much better."

She walks past him to his closet and rummages around before finding what she wants. She grabs his favorite white button down shirt and tosses it on her shoulders, only buttoning three buttons.

"Now you're feeling modest huh?"

"Now, it's a little chilly, jackass."

"Hmm."

He stops fiddling with the sheets to pull on a pair of boxers. Kate just smiles and shakes her head while stuffing the pillows into the cases.

Castle smoothes the fitter down before he and Kate throw the sheet in the air to spread it to the whole mattress. Once they're done he looks Kate directly in her eyes.

"I'm starving."

* * *

He's sitting up against the headboard eating what's left of his chips after having already eaten his sandwich. Kate's facing him, sitting on her knees with her peanut butter and jelly sandwich in one hand and a glass of milk in the other.

"So can I ask you a question?"

She shrugs and places her sandwich on the plate in front of her.

"What had you so upset?"

"What do you mean?" She questions, talking around the glass of milk.

"When you came into the bar your face was so red and your eyes were so puffy. I could tell you had been crying. I'm just wondering why."

She's quiet a moment and a defensive look comes over her eyes, but then she deflates and gives in.

"I kind of embarrassed myself."

"Kind of?"

She huffs a breath. "There's this guy at work and I..."

"Am madly in love with him?" He says trying to lighten the mood but from the expression she gives he realizes he's spot on.

"I threw myself at him and he...rejected me."

"Why would any man turn you away?"

She continues as if he hadn't said anything. "I was at his apartment and when he turned me away I saw he had company. A couple other officers from work." She looks him in the eye then. "Then he told me it was never gonna happen and to go home."

"How long have you been in love with him?" He asks lowly.

"A year," she responds voice cracking and eyes watering. He instantly reaches out for her, clutching her wrists and pulling her until she is straddling his lap.

"It'll be okay. We all get out hearts broken sometimes."

She sits her glass down and pushes his plate out of the way.

"I don't want to talk about it anymore."

She kisses him then, soft and slow, and he lets her. If he can help take the pain away, he'll do whatever he can.

He doesn't like that she's hurting.

* * *

After the second time he no longer can resist touching her. He plays with her hair, caresses her arm, and finally takes her hand.

Kate bites her lip and opens one eye to peek out at him.

"What's wrong, am I turning you on?" He asks. She blushes immediately. "Really?" He says. "Did I not...satisfy you the first two times?"

She shrugs. "Maybe..."

He grabs her ankles and yanks her down so they're face to face. "I'll guess I just have to remedy that."

She's still wearing his shirt because he likes the way it looks on her. He slides his hand underneath it and she smirks, that one corner of her mouth quirked up in that teasing manner as he cups her breast. He lowers his head to her lips to kiss her quickly before gliding down until his face is level with her heated center.

He looks up in time to see her eyes flutter closed nervously and he wonders if she's ever done this before.

"Wait, you weren't a virgin were you?" He asks insanely worried.

She jumps up and shoots him a glare. "No! Why would you think that?"

"Has anyone ever," he pauses unsure how to word his question. "Gone down on you before?"

She sighs and lays back. "No. I never wanted them to."

"Do you want me to?"

"Yes," she answers without preamble.

"Why?"

"Because I trust you." She closes her eyes, reaches down and runs her fingers through his hair.

"Why me?"

"I don't know, okay? I just do." Her fingers tighten a fraction before she lets go again.

He thinks it's because of the connection they have, because for whatever reason, he would trust her with his life when he doesn't even trust himself.

"Okay."

He places his face across her center and watches her reaction as his mouth settles on her. Her face scrunches, hands tighten, and her body slowly undulates against his face. He watches her intently as he brings her to a climax and it's the most beautiful thing he's ever experienced, seen, and done with any woman. He's not sure he'll be able to do it to another woman.

* * *

They talk quietly after the third time with hands wandering and lingering and caressing and playing. It's not until he jokes that it has to be close to seven in the morning that she jumps up out of bed and searches frantically for her clothes.

"What're you doing?" He asks worriedly.

"I have to go!"

"Why? I thought you said you had the day off."

"I do but...," she pauses and looks at him, her jeans halfway on.

"Why do you have to leave?"

"Do you want me to stay?"

"Yes, I would like that."

"Why?"

"I-I like you," he answers swallowing thickly.

"You barely know me!"

She checks the clock on his nightstand; it reads 3:22 in the morning.

"I know we barely know each other Kate, but I'd love the chance to get to know you more. Like we've been doing!"

"You mean you wanna keep fucking me? Is that it?"

"No, not at all." His voice deflates unable to understand why she would say that. "Look Kate I was dumped by a girl I'm ashamed to admit I might've loved. She cheated on me and when I found out she broke up with me. In front of my best friend who, turns out, was the one she cheated with."

"I'm sorry," she mutters zipping her pants slowly.

"But when I met you tonight none of that mattered. All my pain just disappeared. All I want to do is get to know you and spend time with you," he says walking closer to lay his hands on her cheeks.

"Why?" She whispers staring him in the eye.

Rick sighs. "I'm not in love with you if that's what you're worried about." He sees her visibly relax and doesn't know whether to laugh or be disappointed. "I'm just...infatuated."

"What do you want from me?"

"Just stay. Stay the night and we'll have breakfast in the morning."

Kate bites her lip, contemplating. She looks away from him then, unable to meet his eyes.

"Why me?"

"I don't know. Maybe I see something in you reflected back at me. Knowing myself, I could probably use a friend, just someone to talk to."

Kate sighs and runs her fingers through her hair. "Okay fine. I'll stay."

"You'll be here in the morning?"

"Yup," she answers climbing into bed. "I want waffles for breakfast."

"Anything you want." He can't stop smiling.

He's never been good at these, one night stands. They're supposed to be fast and impersonal. No emotions, no attachments. And yet he always finds himself with a woman that mirrors his own sorrow, his despair reflected back at him. Which is exactly why he should've known she would be gone when he woke up in the morning.


End file.
